I've Probably Said This Before, But....

A View From Lake Placid

2010-08-01T23:13:00.032-04:00

10pm Sunday, 1 Aug.
A week ago today at this time I had just completed my first Ironman, in Lake Placid, NY. While I was there I took notes for a daily diary of sorts, to be compiled electronically after-the-fact. I've finished that and now have something to show my friends in the nursing home some day when they can't believe I am an Ironman. I'm sure they will only look at the awesome pictures my husband, Dave, and my friend Lenny's son, Michael, took, as the blow-by-blow account of the week is novel-length.

This entire week I have continued to look at those pictures in order to convince myself that, yes, I really did this. Today I think it has finally sunk in.

I won't be publishing the entire week-long diary here. Be thankful you are getting the edited version!

Dave, our son Eben and I were in Lake Placid for a Wednesday-to-Wednesday week, with the race centered in there on Sunday, 25 July. When we arrived it was cool and rainy and as soon as the car door opened, my entire body relaxed. The long, gruelingly hot summer in our un-air conditioned house in the Philadelphia 'burbs had exhausted me, and with Ironman training on top of that, my body openly embraced the atmosphere in the Adirondacks.

I spent the next three and a half days napping, eating, napping, farting around on Facebook, catching the final stages of the Tour de France, napping, checking the blog of a friend of mine who had embarked on a Big Adventure of his own, napping, listening to a special mix of relaxing music compiled just for this occasion, and napping.

Come race day, I was the definition of relaxed. This did not go unnoticed by my family or my team mates. For the first time ever, I was calm and relaxed the night before a race (even before drinking a bunch of wine) and even on race morning I was on an even keel and all smiles and not the least bit tense. It's true! Ask Dave if you don't believe me. I said I was going to get me some Zen this year, and damn if I didn't do it just in the nick of time.

I know. Amazing. But I had a lot of help from my friends.*

Race morning dawned perfectly. Overcast, high 50s or low 60s or something, and threatening rain. I had raced two weeks before in Maryland in the pouring rain, questioning my intelligence in doing so. It seemed like I was risking injury too close to Ironman, but I did it anyway. It paid off. I had no fear of riding in the rain in the Adirondacks after that. Respect, yes, but not fear. Weather conditions were actually perfect for a triathlon.

I had my arms and legs marked with race number and age, as is typical for a triathlon... and with the smiley face I always request for the calf that doesn't get marked with anything. I had the best body marker ever. The face was my best one yet.

I had my swim plan. (See my previous post for background on that.) That is: Stay near the back; when the gun goes off, count to 15 and then swim. I let the Good Swimmers get their start and then I began mine. It worked beautifully. It took me about 90 seconds to count to 15, but it still worked well! Standing around me in the water waiting for the swim start, a couple of new friends asked me why I was smiling. I pointed to the nearly 3,000 swimmers jockeying for position at the flags and said, "because that's not me!"

I can say in all honesty that that was the easiest, most care-free triathlon swim I have ever had. I have decided that wave starts are for the birds. Being able to choose when you start is awesome.

Everything in Ford Ironman, Lake Placid is done in two loops. The swim is 2.4 miles in lovely Mirror Lake, in the form of two 1.2 mile loops. For each loop you swim out to a buoy, turn left, swim a bit more, turn left again, and then swim back in. I spent almost the entire second half of the second loop swimming very near the buoys that line the course. If you are close enough to them, you can see the cable that connects them running along the bottom of the lake, and that's a lot easier than looking up to sight the buoys themselves.

As I swam that last quarter, I looked up to sight a buoy when I lost sight of the cable, and I noticed it was raining pretty hard. The rain was bouncing off the surface of the lake and a light fog hovered over the water. It was in that moment that I thought of my mom, who passed away several years ago. She didn't argue with me when I refused swim lessons after the first day back in 1967 when I told her that they were trying to kill me there by making me sit on the bottom of the pool holding my breath until they said to come up.

I never did learn to swim as a kid. I learned three years ago before my first triathlon. My mom never learned to swim either. I know she would not believe I did this. She also would not believe how much I love to swim and how comfortable I am in the open water. That is the thought that popped in my head as I looked up to sight the buoy last Sunday morning. It made me laugh and laughing while you are swimming is very cool.

I finished the swim in exactly the time our team's swim coach predicted. I am in awe of that. I swam 4,000 meters in his pool twice, one of those times with wetsuit on in 90+ degree air temps and from those two training days he was able to predict dead on how I would do in Mirror Lake in air temps at least 35 degrees cooler. I am slow, but I get there with lots of energy for the bike.

Last year when I came to Lake Placid to volunteer and then register for this year, I rode one loop of the bike course and absolutely loved it. The area is so beautiful and the air is clean and the views breathtaking (if you have extra breath to give). It is obviously hilly, but I like hills because I am light enough to be able to scurry up relatively quickly... not so marvelous on the downhills. I broke 66 kph for the first time ever last Sunday on the long descent into Keene. Ok, that's 41 mph, but I like putting it in terms of kph cause it sounds faster. ha ha. That really ain't too fast, even in my aero-est, most streamlined position. 'Tis life.

So, among those I passed on the uphills were the same group of six or seven who would then pass me on the down hills. Occasionally I wouldn't see some of them for two or three hills, but eventually those half-dozen got back to me. It was fun making these new friends and exchanging witticisms as we passed. Certainly helped getting through those climbs.

Me passing someone on the way up: "Oh, look... now you're going to have to pass me again."
Someone gasping asks me as I pass them going up: "How much do you weigh? 55 lbs?"
I asked someone who I thought was already ahead of me: "What did you do, stop for lunch? I thought you were way ahead of me!"

At the end of the first bike loop you can stop briefly to load in supplies packed in "special needs bags" at the side of the road. The volunteers were a well-oiled machine, radioing in race numbers as we approached, and then directing cyclists to the exact spot where the volunteer was waiting with bag in hands. I rifled through my bag, rejecting the three extra tubes and four extra CO2 cartridges I had packed in case I got two flats on the first loop and was riding in on a flat the the special needs area. LOL. Really, I had both belt & suspenders at the ready. I loaded in the nutrition and bottles I had packed for the second loop and then I looked around, over my shoulder. The volunteer said, "What? what do you need?" I said, "Porta-pot?" He said, "I'll hold your bike, over there!" and pointed. I dashed and got in and out in about a minute. He had walked my bike to the porta-pot door and I literally took one step out of the john and another one onto the bike. The volunteers at this race rocked. As I headed out for the second loop, I heard the announcer say my name over the loud speaker and everyone cheered. Really, how awesome is that? They don't know me from Jane, but they treated me like a star.

The second loop felt faster than the first, but it wasn't. The wind picked up through a canyon area with the heaviest climbs. It was a challenge and I knew that if I didn't take it somewhat easy I might have a bad run, but I was so tired of being on the bike and so ready to start running that I kept at about the same level of exertion, even if I did slow down a bit. I ended up finishing the bike course about 15 minutes slower than I was shooting for.

I always wondered how I could run a marathon after having biked 112 miles. It's the one thing in all of this that it's not possible to train for. Running 20+ miles after a century ride would create a recovery-time setback in training that would cost too much. So, I tried to simulate the fatigue from cycling 112 miles by running 20 miles after work a couple of times. Both times I "bonked" from too little nutrition and not enough rest (cumulative fatigue from training and the heat). I learned absolutely nothing from those runs. After resting, napping and eating well during the taper, I was actually much better prepared for what lay ahead. It just wasn't possible to train for it. There is also a wild card that is too unpredictable to plan for. There is no way to know how the body will be fairing after 10 or so hours already on the course. Being mentally prepared to deal with whatever comes up is all you can really do.

Thinking about it now, I am surprised at how ready I was to run once I got off the bike. I never once thought, "how am I going to run a marathon now?" It was just time to do it.

Here was the plan: Run the first six miles, walking only through water stops. Eat a gel before the first water stop (carried with me) and then use the water stops for the rest of the nutrition I would need... gels, coke, sports drink, water, ice. I already knew I wouldn't be interested an any of the other stuff they had there. I didn't train with any of that. Take a second gel at 3 miles (about half-way to the turnaround), and a third gel at the stop after the turn around. At about 10 miles or so there are a couple of hills I would walk in addition to walking through the water stops. And then I would try to execute the second loop similarly.

Here's what happened: I ran the first 10 miles as planned, but started feeling nauseous whenever I put something in my stomach just after about the six mile mark. The gel I tried to take at 9 miles was so revolting that I couldn't force it down. After that, I pretty much sucked ice for the rest of the run. I felt great when I didn't try to put something in my stomach, so I stopped trying.

The run was very social. I saw my team mates all looking strong on the run and we cheered each other, and I saw several of the same runners who I passed or who passed me as we went by each other later on in passing on the out-and-backs. There was a guy from the bike course who also had a smiley face on the back of his leg, and I recognized him because of that on the run. As I passed he said, "D-oh! I knew you were going to get me on the run." After that, every time we passed by each other on the out-and-backs, he and a large group of friends he was running with would shout across the road to me "Go Go Go Diane!!!" and I would shout it right back to them. It was really great. Ironman is like nothing else.

The end of the first loop was oh, so slightly depressing because the crowd was cheering mightily for those who were finishing and unable to distinguish who was finishing and who still had to go out for the second loop. Encouragement to "finish strong" was a little tough to take. The Bear climbed on my back but I shrugged him off as soon as I made the turn to head (downhill) out of Lake Placid for the bulk of the second loop. Our team, the TriDawgs were there in a very organized band, texting each other to be in position at critical places along the course. That support was so awesome, especially on the run. They are all already veterans of Ironman, and most of them had done Lake Placid, so they knew exactly where to be and when. It was wonderful! As I made that turn and headed down the hill, I saw Coach with a huge smile on his face, and who wouldn't be affected by that? The Bear went running for the hills and the smile was back on my face.

I walked a little more than I expected to in the second loop. Okay, a lot more, to the tune of a half-hour extra time on the course. After the second turn around, with a little more than six miles left to go, I was ready for it to be over. The Bear was back and this time I took deep breaths and gave myself a pep talk. I was at the point in the course farthest from the finish line and I needed to keep running as much as possible to stay warm. The air was feeling pretty darned cold at that point! I told myself that the finish line would come faster if I ran, so I employed a run/walk strategy that helped me out earlier in the year during a tough race, knowing from previous experience that it would be temporary; just long enough to get some strength back for the end. I looked at my watch, noted that I was going to end a half-hour off, and so with that recalculation in mind, I began running again and kept the mini-goals in reach.

By the time I got back to the top of the first big hill toward the end and saw my team mates I had gotten a second (or fourth) wind and was running pretty strong. They ran along the edge of the road with me some to give me encouragement and my team mate Vince got the crowd in the game shouting, "This is my friend Diane! This is her FIRST Ironman!" and everyone cheered madly and it was the most awesome feeling. REALLY hard to walk, even up the worst hill of the course, with all of that cheering going on!

The last two miles, the out-and-back that starts very near to the actual finish line, was a gauntlet of cheering well-wishers... to a point. The last half-mile to the turnaround and then the half-mile back thinned out quite a bit, and my brain was screaming "where's the damn turn-around???" On the way back a friend of some of my team mates, someone I actually met and trained with once last winter, but hadn't seen since and didn't recognize last Sunday, caught up to me in the last mile and asked to run with me. I said "of course, but I will probably take a walk break so that I don't collapse in the Oval in front of the cameras!" So we ran together a little until I needed that 30 second break, and then Mike continued on. I don't think he knew who I was either. I'll have to try to get in touch with him soon!

During that last walk break the sounds from inside the Oval were upon me, and I heard the song on the PA... "I'm Gonna Be (500 miles)" by the Proclaimers. This is a song recently gifted to me on a new iTunes running playlist. I have been totally loving this new playlist and when I heard this song I couldn't help cut my walk break in half so that I could cross the finish line to "...to be the one who walks 5,000 miles and falls down at your door." ha ha. Later, my son said, "Did you hear the song you finished to before you got to the Oval? Can you believe it??" He had also been enjoying my new playlist and we had been having fun with the "awful" Scottish accent in that
song.

I crossed the finish line at 14:35:45, which was 35 minutes longer than my target, which is totally cool. You gotta have a target, but know that with your first one it's really just about finishing. I was pretty dehydrated, with an impressively low blood pressure and my body temp was low as well. I took advantage of the deluxe accommodations of the medical tent, and then upgraded to the ER for a few hours. I highly recommend a shot of anti-inflammatory meds in your next post-race IV. The next day I was good to go.

Monday was a rest day and then Tuesday Dave & Eben & I went kayaking from a team mate's rented condo on Lake Placid. That was just what the doctor ordered, except I didn't train for it and discovered that there are some muscles you don't utilize in Ironman training. Who knew? After kayaking, we went to the top of Whiteface Mountain and soaked in the views of Lake Placid and the region around it. Incredible.

It was the best vacation of my life!

*There were so many friends who helped and supported me all year. The entire Tri-Dawg team of course, and especially Carrie, Chris, Margaret, Lenny, Eric, Marc, Bill and Vince. I never would have even signed up if not for Marianne, who mentored me all year and basically made this possible for me. I already miss working out with her! Marianne and Lenny raced at Lake Placid, too and really did well. Marianne won second place in her age group. Congrats to both of them! Our team has the best swim coach on the planet. I have no idea how I would have done this with only three years of swimming experience if not for Coach and especially this year with all of the extra time he put in with me. Tri-Dawg generosity is massive. I have other generous friends who gave me tons of support this year, and especially toward the end when I was really getting exhausted, most notably Terry & Debi. I am excited about passing all of this generosity forward.

You feel the fear, and then Do It anyway

2010-07-16T20:46:00.028-04:00

Ford Ironman USA Lake Placid, NY

"In trying to make it totally risk-free (which is impossible) it becomes sterile and devoid of the essential elements that make it attractive."

On July 7 I received two email messages with a Philadelphia Inquirer op-ed piece attached, and the paper version of the same article spread across my keyboard at work. In "The Chaotic Waters of Triathlons," writer and triathlete Megan Williams was assigned by the Inquirer to write on the topic of "the dangers of triathlon" in reaction to the death of first-time triathlete Derek Valentino in the sprint-distance Philadelphia Insurance Triathlon the previous Saturday.

I don't know why Valentino died. The family had every right to not release that information to the press. Usually an underlying medical issue is to blame.

Well, it worked. Mission accomplished. My friends and family are now armed with "proof" that what I am going to do is dangerous. After all, if it was in the newspaper -- and written by a triathlete no less -- then it must be true. The fact that it led off with an alarming description of the swim at the venue where I will be competing next week made me panic. If it upset me, after nothing but positive experiences in three seasons of racing triathlon at every distance except IM, and after training a solid 10 months for this year's Ford Ironman Lake Placid, I can only imagine what goes through the heads of people who don't participate.

Williams' piece described a horrific scene during the swim at Ironman Lake Placid in 2001. When I read her words, none of the training, the experience, the help and advice from my team and our swim coach --none of that -- staved off the panic. The walls closed in around me and I sat at my desk in tears.

Since that day I have been asked about it by other well-meaning people and I don't blame them. Reading an alarmist scare story about the triathlon swim plays on the deepest fears of anyone who has never done one.

But right now I need piece of mind and to focus on race prep, trip planning, housekeeping while we are away, and most importantly, having the time of my life in Lake Placid. So I am writing this down today so that I can put it aside once and for all and concentrate on what is going to be for me one of my greatest accomplishments.

If I sent you a link to this blog post in response to your concern for me, it is not because I don't appreciate that you care about me. I hope you understand that. So here goes:

I learned to swim three years ago. I am quite comfortable in the open water. Not fast by any stretch of the imagination, but comfortable. But because my performance in the swim is the weakest of the three disciplines, and because I have never done a mass swim start (in which all 2,000+ athletes begin at once, rather than in the small group "waves" of shorter distance races), there is of course room for a bit of fear. I thought I was managing it very well. Guess not.

Lucky for me I have some very good friends. One in particular is a triathlete from the area near Chester England who regularly volunteers for the Chester Tri Club's women-only beginner's triathlon. Terry was outraged by the op-ed and wrote to the author pointing out the alarmist nature of her account. Her reply was, "I'm sorry you disagree with my personal perspective, but after all, this is the point of the Op-Ed section of the paper: to promote dialogue..." and then "...I would appreciate not hearing from you again."

So much for dialogue.

Williams copied in a few people from various triathlon organizations in the area, including a USAT board member. On a roll, Terry wrote to them as well and received some very thoughtful replies, one of which stated, and I think it's worth publishing for you to read here,

I remember my first Placid all too well--I wasn't sure I would even make it to the second loop of the swim, let alone finish the race. Of course, it was a tremendous experience start to finish. Your friend is in for a great day. Please let her know that the swim is the easiest and most comfortable one I've ever done--you don't even need to sight, the water is so clear you can just follow the underwater rope lines connecting the buoys.

This is the reality I heard from my team mates who participated at Lake Placid in 2008 and 2009. It is what my swim coach tried to impress upon me. I know it's true, logically, but when you read a horror story, for some reason it makes an impression.

That account sounds so different from the printed story in the Philadelphia Inquirer. Ms. Williams, by contrast, called the swim "hellish." Why didn't she quote the person above, whom she consulted for her story, in an attempt to accurately illustrate that you can expect as many different experiences in a race as there are people racing? Instead the title of her op-ed suggests that the swim of any triathlon is "chaotic."

Not everyone has an experienced team to turn to for guidance and support. Most people don't. And I know I am very lucky to have such wonderful friends. Terry did a little digging and presented this to me:

Also I just checked out the full results for IMLP 2009 and guess how many DNFs [did not finish] there were on the swim? Go on have a guess.
In fact I will let you have three guesses.
Go on. Guess.
Ready for the answer?
0
None
Not one DNF on the swim.
Everyone got out of the water and on to a bike. Nobody bailed in the swim.
If you don't believe me then scroll down to the bottom of this link
http://www.runtri.com/2009/07/ironman-usa-lake-placid-2009-results.html

I think it's been a very long week for him as he has written and responded daily to the writer and the greater Philadelphia triathlon community in addition to all of my concerns as they popped up.

I am convinced now that her piece was a very poor "thin slice" of the experience of the triathlon swim. As Terry wrote in response to a question about preparing new triathletes

...Safety in training is mostly just common sense .... Join a running club, join a cycling club, join a swimming club or join a tri club because there are people with lots of experience and lots of advice that will help you out. But, triathlon is not a risky sport in the spectrum of sports available. In trying to make it totally risk-free (which is impossible) it becomes sterile and devoid of the essential elements that make it attractive. The massive growth in triathlon participation is testament to it's increasing attractiveness so let's get some balance in the debate. Megan [Williams] isn't interested in balance. But that's just her opinion.

In the end there is something positive I am taking away from all of this. Rather than sweeping my uncertainties aside to possibly surface as I enter Mirror Lake on July 25th for the swim start, they have now been fully addressed. I am traveling to Lake Placid knowing that I am well prepared, well-trained, and ready to have absolutely the greatest day. There will be fear. It's very much like stage freight. But you feel the fear, and then you just Do It anyway.

Happy New Year!

2009-01-04T10:17:00.002-05:00

On my birthday a month and a half ago, I was asked what was my favorite year so far. I said "this year was certainly the best, although if I'm allowed to combine it with last year, I'd say these past two years blow all the others away by far." The answer took my friend by surprise. I guess usually people reminisce about when they were younger or something, Money and world affairs aside -- on a purely personal level -- 2008 was awesome.

Words to guide me in the New Year . . .

Teaching learning growing yearning
Reaching falling trying flying
Waiting bearing willing daring

Pushing leaving pressing yielding
Leaning back
Sewing gleaning working pleasing
Refusing lack

Aching soothing feeling breathing
Hugging kissing touching smoothing
Loving sharing adoring esteeming

Believing abiding persisting accepting

If you never try (and try again) you'll never know what you can do.

Winter is Around the Corner

2008-10-20T20:40:00.007-04:00

Maybe that's why I feel the way I do. It's my annual struggle against the inevitable. I used to like autumn the best of all the seasons, but for the second year straight, that is no longer so. When autumn comes I feel like there is still so much I want to do and haven't done, and now the year is coming to a close. I'm not ready to harvest, and yet it's time to harvest. So, a lot of what I refuse to conclude begins to rot.

Maybe harvesting is too much work. Maybe I'm just lazy. Or maybe I think what I've done isn't worth harvesting.

Maybe these metaphors are too much!

Robin, my 16 year old son is quite a wordsmith. He has a book for school that is meant to be used as a vocabulary builder. Reading it is very much like reading a dictionary. (The nut doesn't fall far from the tree. One of my favorite pastimes is reading the Spanish dictionary to improve my vocabulary.)

Robin told me yesterday that I am an "ambivert." I hadn't heard that word before, but it's easy to see what it means. I thought maybe he had made it up, but in fact he discovered it in that book.

He went deeper. He pretty much nailed my personality. "You want to be an extrovert, but it's very difficult for you. When you appear extroverted, it's almost forced." (the "almost" was not necessary... it *is* usually forced.) He said being an ambivert, someone who is extroverted part of the time and introverted part of the time is very normal, but that my situation is a bit more complicated than that.

He continued by saying that I am extremely self-critical. Even when I accomplish something, I can usually find something to criticize about it. After a social encounter, I often regret something I may have said or done that could have been misunderstood. Sometimes I appear self-critical when I'm only looking ahead to improving on something I've just done, for example, in a race or in my language studies.

I am not a grumpy, difficult person. When I am out of sorts, people notice, and say "You're not your usual, bubbly self." (This happened at swim practice this week, when I was feeling a bit down over an on-going situation unrelated to this post.) But Robin sees the Me that is always there, below the bubbly surface, afraid to be antisocial, but uncomfortable in the spotlight.

One of my New Year's Resolutions was to "be more outgoing in social situations, putting my hand out and initiating conversation with total strangers," because I know, from experience, that when I do this, I meet interesting people and my life is richer. After almost a year of this, it is still uncomfortable, but I've decided, worth doing.

Our next conversation, Robin and I, will be about what he thinks of this... I wonder if he thinks it's worthwhile or folly to "go against one's nature." He's been a philosopher since he was three months old, sitting in his bouncy seat perfectly still, gazing around a room taking it all in. "He's very serious, isn't he?" my mother said. Indeed he is. I'll be interested to hear what he has to say.

Training and racing is still going very well. It's the one thing right now that I have any control over, and I do much of it on my own. Solitude is peace for me these days.

[Photo from weebsie's photostream at the Flickr Creative Commons.]

Thinking about Spain

2008-10-05T12:34:00.004-04:00

This time last year I was five or six days into a two week trip to Spain. It was my first trip out of North America, and right now, I'd love to be back there again! I'd like to make Spain an annual thing.

Congrats to Awen & José, who got married there on Tuesday. If they had done it last year, I would have been there!

[photo: Me & Awen in Toledo 13 Oct 2007]

My first Half-Marathon.

2008-09-22T08:54:00.007-04:00

Well, it was really a gorgeous day in Center City Philly yesterday, and the party atmosphere was almost too inviting. I spent maybe a little too much time socializing before the race start and when I turned to find my corral I had some difficulty getting across the fence! "Where do we go to get in?" I asked. "You climb under or over!" and three people picked up the orange plastic fencing and I slipped under just in time. Just in time to walk, of course, for the first minute or so, but at least I was in position. And dang if I didn't miss Mayor Nutter's pearls of wisdom before they let us go.

As someone who's run The Loop (around MLK/West River drive, across Falls Bridge & then down Kelly Drive back to the Art Museum) a few times, I was happy that the "extra" part of the race around City Hall was first, not last. Once we were on the approximately 8.4 mile Loop, I felt like, hey, this is just my Sunday Loop run with my Fairmount Running Club buddies.

Well, except there isn't nearly enough shade in the middle of Kelly Drive!! Crossing Falls Bridge somewhere between the 8 and 9 mile mark, I heard the bagpipe band and it really put a smile on my face. I thought, "It's the sound of the sun coming up!" Sure enough coming off the bridge and rounding the corner onto Kelly Drive, we were suddenly facing into the full sun. It was a warm day by then -- not HOT by any stretch of the imagination -- but I am a total baby when it comes to running with the sun pounding down on me! Waah!

My time was five and a half minutes slower than I had hoped for, something to work on in time for the next one in November. I wanted to match the first-time time of my friend, Paul, who told me his first half-marathon (when he was 14!) was 1:45. I finished in 1:50:22.

Paul's son Julian also ran his first half-marathon yesterday, and so Paul drove us both there and arranged for our post-race entertainment. Julian did awesome! He ran with a pace keeper, a friend of Paul's we ran into who happened to be running the race solely to help another friend keep pace. Julian was able to go along for the ride - er, run! When they ducked into the porta-pots along the way, Julian decided to keep going on his own. He ran a great race!

It wasn't the beach, where a lot of my fellow Tri-Dawgs (including Paul!) competed in a triathlon on Saturday, but it was a really fun race and a great day for it! Now I'm off to register for the November half-marathon.

[photo: Russia's Liliya Shobukhova, who won the thing in 1:10:21. Second place went to Beijing marathon Olympic silver medalist Catherine Ndereba of Kenya]

"Busy" takes its toll...

2008-09-17T14:59:00.009-04:00

It's been forever since I've blogged. Too tired. To stressed. Too busy.

I've been so busy at work that I haven't had any "break time" to fool around and post anything. I get home in the evening hammered. I don't feel like even touching a keyboard after my day of troubleshooting technical issues related to my job as a college Electronic Resources Librarian.

But maybe I just feel busier than I really am, because I don't have myself well organized.

Since the beginning of a new semester I've been struggling with my newest cyclical demon... a change in routine. I've always thrived under the structure of a good routine, and these days I simply cannot function without one. And these days my routine requires changes often or it falls apart. My training needs require access to pools, running trails and bike routes, and this access changes seasonally. Before I started training again, I could get into the same routine for MONTHS and live life on an even keel. Not boring, necessarily, because my activities changed regularly, but my routine didn't have to.

But physical activities that rely on changeable things like pool & gym hours, work schedule, race schedules and especially daylight, require that the routine be adjusted whenever any of these things -- along with the kids' schedules -- changes.

And at this time of year, the day is shrinking at just the time I need it to expand!

I've changed my work schedule a bit to add an interval workout on a weeknight. That's one night fewer I can ride to work. I've been wanting to do this for a long time, but now, as we move from triathlon season to marathon season, the timing is perfect. (I'm not running a marathon this year though. Next year. This year I'll do one -- possibly two -- half-marathons.) It's also one night a week I can run with other people. Invaluable.

I'm back to swimming two mornings a week before work at the pool here at the college, in addition to a couple of other times each week elsewhere. Those two workweek mornings I'm unable to commute to work on my bike. I work until 6p.m. one -- sometimes two -- days a week. It's dark before 7:30 and I prefer not to ride in the dark, in case I get a flat, so that's two more days (some weeks) that I can't ride. That leaves only Fridays (reliably) for riding to work, until the daylight shrinks even more and I'm forced into spin classes to compensate. When that happens, my routine will change again.

My run schedule is also changing. It's dark in the early mornings and getting that way at the end of the work-day, too. Except for the weekend, running at lunch is once again becoming the best time, most days. That means I have to start packing lunch again, because there's no time to go to the café and go for a run. I should pack a lunch again anyway, because I need my siesta time on the days that I don't run at lunch! For that reason, I alternate days running and days having a brief, post-lunch siesta.

All this routine-busting has made my mind race when I wake up in the night. If I can't get back to sleep right away because of Dave's snoring, I am plagued by my unresolved schedule. I'm just sure I'm forgetting something or not managing something in the best way. I gotta be organized and efficient if I want to squeeze it all in.

And, I have to get a good night's sleep. So, I'm getting organized. It's taken me all day (10 minutes here, 10 minutes there) to write this letter to myself! I already feel better just writing it all down. Now I'll pull out the training calendar and get down to business. Before the end of today, before my head hits the pillow, I'll be back in control of the ONE thing in life I can control... my training!

Jason

2008-08-06T10:19:00.003-04:00

Jason is the son-in-law of my friend Amma. The husband of my friend Lucas. He died on the second day of August last year after a tragic, freak accident, and his death literally changed my life.... I'm not sure anybody really understands how much. I wrote the following as a comment on one of Amma's recent blog posts at Tribe.net, and then decided I wanted to have it here, too.

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On Saturday I "broke the rules" and had a swim workout the day before a race. I needed to expend some energy and use the rhythmic motions to zone out and process everything that's happened in this past year... everything that began when Jason died, and swimming was the least stressful of the three for the job. I've said this before, but pretty much everything I've done since then has been a direct result of the messages I received loud and clear in the wake of Jason's death.

We have to live life like there is no tomorrow... not in fear but with joy and a mindfulness of all of the gifts we receive and have the opportunity to give, if we'll do it. We need to savor everything. It almost seems paradoxical to say "move slowly, savor everything, live mindfully," at the same time as, "live like there is no tomorrow!" Haste is not the answer. Rushing doesn't slow things down. Nothing slows down the inevitable, but slowing down means you see everything between here and there.

Yes, I made last year's resolution and planned my trip to Madrid before Jason died, but I lived the trip so differently than I would have otherwise. For this year's resolutions, I decided to take some chances I normally would not take. Risked some things that I would hate to lose. But in doing so I stretched my horizons and have turned into a more patient, more accessible person. I live with much less fear and far more faith that things will find their right place eventually.

When I signed up [last winter] for the race I participated in last Sunday, I honestly did not make the connection that it would be the day after the anniversary of Jason's death. But it was oh, so fitting to have him on my mind. The gifts he's given me this year I can never repay, but I am so grateful for them.

SheROX 2008 is History

2008-08-04T18:59:00.006-04:00

I had the best day. The race I've been training for over the past 8 months is finally done, and now I look ahead to my first half-marathon.

SheROX was a blast. Eben (in the photo with me) got up at 4a.m. and came with us. Dave & Eben brought their bikes and rode all around, cheering for me in at least five different places, and there were lots of people from the clubs that I train with there, too, racing and/or cheering and marking up the pavement with all sorts of fun slogans and drawings.

And dang if it wasn't another beautiful race day! I even wore a jacket for about the first hour there. They allowed wet suits at the very last minute, and that was interesting. I actually had to *think* about it before I decided to wear it. I'm glad I did. It was my first time racing in a wet suit (the only other time I've raced a tri they weren't allowed because the water was too warm), but it only took me 23 seconds to get the thing off in transition (and probably three extra seconds to make the effort to check my watch!).

I was FIRST!! .... Well ... first into the porta-pots in the transition area! I've never seen a clean porta-pot before. First time for everything, huh?

Results: They're still revising them, but as of this posting I was 14th out of 112 in my age group and I improved in both my swim and bike. Best of all, today I feel great! No injuries! I can move ahead with training for the Distance Run. Dave told me that the thing that he thinks ROX is that I was 163rd out of 1,211 (as of earlier today). Well, whatever! I'm just happy to be happy!

I've posted some pictures... The one at the top is right after I got my body marked. They put your race number on your arms and legs and your age on your right calf. That way, if you're 45 and you're trying to catch someone on the run, but you see she's only 28, you can just let her go, cause she's not in your age group! You can't see the smiley face I had the volunteer draw on my left calf. I liked the idea when I saw it on Steve Stenzel's blog, so I stole it!

This one is my transition set up....

I had a primo slot in transition because I got there really early. Lots of tri-friends checked out my set-up and gave me a thumbs up. Less is definitely more!

Dave took this photo of the swim at about the time my wave got in the "pool."

Isn't it a beautiful day? Oh, it's a myth that you'll drown if you smile while you swim! And for this race, it seems everyone was told to swim to the outside to avoid the crowds. So I swam way inside, close to the buoys and never ONCE had anyone on my feet. Everyone was way off to my left, so my breathing side was clear, too!

Here's the swim exit, facing east. You can see part of the inflatable arch that was easy to sight from the water.

In fact, the arch, the huge inflatable orange buoys and the triangle-shaped huge inflatable orange buoys at the places where you turn right (always right turns, always the buoys are on the right... heaven for right-breathers like me), made this feel a bit like pre-school!

But, you'll see how steeply the beach dives into the water. It was a rocky, steep climb out of the water, and before you ever touched bottom a volunteer grabbed your arm and hoisted you out.

This is the view south from the swim exit, the view we saw on the longest part of the swim, if we felt like looking up.

Did I mention what a gorgeous day it was?

I can't wait to get more pictures. Everybody had a camera. You can always depend on women to be sure there are photos!

I Did It! I said I'd do it, and I did. I'm almost certain of it!

2008-07-27T12:50:00.007-04:00

It really doesn't matter if I win. Usually. But it's true that I've become more competitive over the past year.

I started out racing just for the adrenaline rush, the camaraderie and the fitness test. Where else do you really push yourself to do the best you can, but in a race? No excuses for "taking it easy," it's a race! The time to take it easy is after the race.

This weekend's five-miler called "Run for the Hill of It" was on my "home turf." The course is a wide, beautiful trail I run at lunch in mild or cold weather and early or late in the day in the hot summer time. I've run the exact part of this trail for almost an entire year, at least once a week and four or five days a week for the last half of 2007, until I began cross-training for triathlon. This is the trail I take to when I want to pass a new time, distance, or intensity milestone. It's like a favorite pair of jeans. So, yeah, I wanted to win my division in this one. I told everyone at work I was going to. Everyone was very excited.

It was an unbelievably gorgeous day. Low humidity and low 70's. It's JULY and it's Philadelphia!!! (I guess it's too much to think it could be like this next weekend too, for the SheROX triathlon?) We'd had some rain a couple of days before. A lot of rain. So there were some mud puddles to dodge and the usual horse poo and path irregularities that I am so familiar with. The race was very well attended. There were just over 400 people registered. I was kind of surprised. I had no idea it was this popular.

I met a lot of very interesting people and had a ball. I love meeting other runners and hearing their stories. There's always a good story!

My race was good, but my pace wasn't. I was faster going out than I was coming back. I've got to get a handle on this! It's starting to bug me. I passed a very fit chick who was obviously younger than I am on the way out, and I knew I would never finish before her. But I still couldn't force myself to slow down and save up for the last half. In a race like this, a five-miler, there is so much opportunity to improve a lot about your run, especially on a very familiar course. It's one of those things I like to do on this trail. A milestone. But I continued on "in my zone." On the way back, she did pass me, and she finished almost a minute ahead of me. She was the ONLY woman I saw after the turn-around. I decided that if I didn't win my division, the winner was way ahead of me and there was no way anything I did would have mattered. Maybe that's why I slowed down a bit.

Just before the finish line I overtook someone who was flagging. I said, "Come on! we've got to finish strong! I'll 'race you' to the finish!!" He smiled and said thanks, and poured it on. We sprinted to the finish, crossing at the exact same time to the enthusiastic cheers of everybody watching. Now that was fun!! We "high-fived" and then I never saw him again.

Next came food and meeting up with people I talked to before the race and hearing about plans for the next races. Lots of the women I talked to are doing SheROX. Very cool.

Then came the awards. This is where it got confusing. I really should have been wearing my glasses. The timing was provided by Lin-Mark, and they post the results on a board at the race finish line. I asked someone to read my line for me so that I would know my pace, my time and my overall place as well as my place in my age & gender division. According to the results, I placed second out of 17 women in my age group, 19th out of 165 women, and 114th overall. Not bad for an ol' girl whose only been back at running for 11 months, after about 20 years off. I was happy, even though I didn't live up to my promise to win First!

Then the awards were given. When they got to my division, they announced the third and second place winners (not me! Huh!!) and then, "First place, from Broomall, PA, finishing 39 and change [I'm sure that's what he said!!], Diane Arnold." I was stunned and confused. But hey! They handed me my medal and my envelope containing a gift certificate and that was that. Back with my friends, one pointed out that they gave me the silver medal, not the gold. "Eh, it's ok, I said. Maybe they were confused and really I should have had the silver all along." It's just too bad the real winner didn't get the verbal acknowledgment and applause.

So, I went home and after lunch and a shower and my husband's return from his stuff and after I returned from getting my glasses adjusted, I finally told the story to my family, who had already seen the medal and GC sitting on the dining room table. (Dave, my husband, pointed out that the envelope for my GC said "M 55-59 2nd place." They *were* confused!!) We decided to check lin-mark online to see what the official results looked like. As of today, the results are still contradictory. My stats (see #114) still say 2 out of 17 in my division, but the awards page (F 45-49) says I placed first.

The only thing that bugs me about this is that the husband of a woman I was talking to was upset because when he got to the podium for his second place award, they were out of silver medals. "Out? How do you run out?" I asked. I'll tell you how... You give too many silver medals out! I might have his. I would like to be able to give it to him. I sent an email to Lin-Mark and I plan to forward it to the organizers of the race, in case they want me to return my medal to give to this other winner. If they don't still have my medal, I won't die. I had a great day and I don't need the medal to remember that.

Low Energy

2008-07-23T09:34:00.005-04:00

It's 10 a.m. I'm looking forward to meeting a friend in Philly for dinner tonight. We're hitting a Thai restaurant I haven't been to before. A BYO, my kinda place. I'm hoping that I'll have a bit more "pep" by then.

We had a kickin' thunderstorm last night, and I was out sleeping on the porch. Really nice. I slept very well, with the exception of maybe a half-hour when I lay awake enjoying the lights and sounds and the very brief mist on my face. I fell asleep again with lights still flashing in the sky. When my phone's alarm woke me up at an unusually late 7a.m., I just wanted to roll over again and have another night's sleep.

I get like this sometimes. I don't know why. I used to think maybe I've inherited a bit of my mom's bipolar disorder, but now I think it might be more related to nutrition and just the everyday ups and downs of life. I am a bit over-sensitive in my interactions with other people. I do tend to take the wrong stuff personally and make too much of situations that are really benign. Whatever. It always passes, and so shall this, I suppose.

It doesn't really help that I'm taking a day off of the swim, bike, run thing. No training today. When things aren't going exactly the way I prefer, it's nice to concentrate on something I can control, my training, but today there is no time. Everyone says you should have a day off now and then, to rest, but I'm a HUGE believer in "active recovery." I'd rather have a low-intensity workout of some sort -- maybe a 25 minute run or a thousand meter slow swim -- than do nothing at all. Especially on a day like this. I usually get cranky if I don't have some sort of energy outlet during the day. Today I'm not cranky, though. Not yet. Just a bit down.

Today's goal: Pep up before dinner and have a really nice time with my friend!

[Photo is the view of Philadelphia from the Belmont Plateau, from the Creative Commons at Flickr: Sunrise at Belmont from Starbuddie84's Photostream]

It's REALLY Hot and I Don't Care

2008-07-21T20:39:00.003-04:00

"What's that? You don't care?? This can't possibly be the same Diane?"

Well, it's true. It's been a scorcher lately. But only the second heat-wave of the season. We don't have a/c at our house, though our kids have window units in their bedrooms. And I've been sleeping on the screened porch on the really hot nights. What's different about this year, though, is that it's really not bothering me. I'm not complaining about it. I'm not losing my appetite. I'm not panicking when I get caught in the full sun. I first noticed this at a traffic light on the bike one afternoon. When you're cycling, the breeze (hot as it may be) feels good. When you stop, the breeze does too! That's when you notice how hot it is. But I've just not had the panic as I have in the past, standing in a crowd watching a parade, for example, feeling like I'll die (or at least pass out) if I don't find some shade.

Nobody can believe it's me.

This is also the first summer ever that I haven't had a sunburn followed by peeling at least once. It's also the first summer that I've been outside every day swimming, biking and/or running. I try to aim for the early morning or late evening, but often the hour-plus bike rides begin at 10 a.m. or 3 p.m. And believe me, I try to wear as little as possible. Over this past weekend with the heat wave, I did all three... swim, bike, run to try to give myself a taste of what the August 3rd race could be like. I think I'll do ok. That race is notorious for including an oppressively hot run. I, the notorious shade-seeker, feel prepared. What's with that?

I am the FAIREST of the fair skinned. Nobody has more transparent, awful skin than me. But this year, I'm also a bit "tan" (if you can call it that) for the first time ever. Without sunscreen I'd last about 10 minutes in the sun before I'd begin to burn. After half-an-hour, I'd been in big trouble. I've been using this stuff I found in March... Coppertone Ultraguard SPF 50 "Waterproof, Non Greasy, Moisturizing." It doesn't feel heavy like all the other sunscreens I've used, and I guess it's more effective! I can even use it on my face and it's just fine. With my luck they'll stop making it. I should probably go get another bottle while I'm thinking about it.

Has something physiologically changed with me? Is that possible? I know my body has gone through some pretty amazing changes this past year or so, but nothing has been as surprising as this to me. I like it! A lot!

It's Transition Day!

2008-07-20T11:13:00.004-04:00

Today I make a fool of myself practicing transitions in my driveway. My son feels a yard sign is a good idea: Caution: Unstable Athlete Entering and Exiting Driveway at Random.

Very funny.

A friend I met through our neighbors is racing her first Ironman today in Lake Placid. I'm following it online. She's finished the 2.4 mile swim, and probably nearly all of the first leg (56 miles) of the bike, and it's only about four and a half hours into the race. After the second 56 mile bike she'll begin the marathon. I am in awe. Luckily, Lake Placid is much cooler (if also pouring rain) than it is here in Philly.

It's sooooo hot today. As a reward for all my hard work (and resulting lower times), I'll treat myself to a trip to the pool afterward.

You go, Carrie!!

Today I Went Shopping

2008-07-19T22:31:00.005-04:00

I don't shop like a girl. I never have. I actually hate to shop. And these days, with "vanity sizing," I never know what size I am. I feel insulted -- like my time isn't valuable -- when I have to go into a dressing room repeatedly to try stuff on only because I have no idea what size I am. And it varies from label to label. So aggravating.

But something's come over me these past few months. Well, I should back up....

I made a vow in January (with a friend... an avid shopper) to "not buy anything for myself for six months," after seeing a video called "The Story of Stuff." It was her idea, but I was sure she'd cave and I wouldn't. I don't even like to shop. It's a piece of cake!! She mentioned that she'd probably need new running shoes before July, "but other than that...." I took that to mean "nothing for myself except workout stuff." I'm new to multi-sport. (New since the beginning of the year.) She's been doing it for a while, and she's sort of a fair weather weekender anyway... not that there's anything wrong with that... hey, if she can pull off a couple of races a year with minimal training, she's a better woman than I. For me, though, I've gone completely insane... hook, line & sinker. To train for the five races (so far) that I've done this year, one of which was a triathlon, I commute to work on my bike (15 miles each way) two or three days a week, swim three days a week, run three days a week. How many days are there in a week?? Yeah, it's become a lifestyle for me. And as I newbie to triathlon training, I still had LOTSA stuff to accumulate. I got a new bike, and running shoes (three times) and cycling shoes and other swim-bike-run stuff of all sorts. You get the picture. During my "six months of no shopping," I'm sure I accumulated at least as much stuff as I did all last year. I know it's because I like finding anything related to my addiction. (Eye protection. I just got the best glasses....)

My laundry is almost exclusively workout gear.

I pack a suitcase once a week for work when I have to drive. My fellow librarian co-workers usually comment, "Is it moving in day?" on the day I bring in the new clothes and haul out the laundry along with my recyclables from my "second breakfast" eating-frenzies. Other than that day, my contribution to the laundry basket at home consists almost entirely of running or cycling shorts and shirts, socks, sports bras, swimsuits, and towels galore.

So, for the first time in my life I like to shop.... for training and racing gear, at least. I have some preetttyy cool -- even matching -- gear. I still don't like to shop for clothes for work, though, but I've had to, a little. I've shrunk out of everything this year. So, my friend didn't cave (as far as I know), but I sure did. I needed new clothes every time the season changed. Does it matter that I didn't enjoy it?

But I digress... As I was saying, today I went shopping. I hit four stores before I made the purchase. I needed a pair of trishorts that wouldn't be too baggy in the water or try to fall off on the run, but wouldn't be too tight either. Before today, I had two pairs of trishorts that I love to wear on my bicycle commutes. I don't like a lot of padding. My seat is awesome and I really don't need it. I wore my favorite of the two pair (the shorter of the two) in my first tri (Thundergust) six weeks ago. They seemed tight enough all the times I wore them on the bike, but were so baggy in the legs in the water that I felt like I was wearing a skirt. Too much drag. (Well, not that clothes are going to help my swim time, but that's a-whole-nother issue.)

Today's mission was to find the perfect tri shorts for August 3rd's SheRox. And I did.

Well, I think I did. I'll know more Monday when I bike them to the pool. But I'm pretty sure I did score. They are Sugoi Piston. The pair I wore at Thundergust were also Sugoi, but made of a different fabric; the Piston's fabric is more like a swimsuit. (My favorite swimsuit is made by Sugoi.) I found them in on my last stop. I have a good feeling about these shorts. Not too long, not too short. A little tighter in the legs than the pair I wore at Thundergust. And, they'll look great with the tri top I already have.

SheROX in Sixteen Days

2008-07-18T11:04:00.009-04:00

I suppose for my first post at Blogger, I ought to just jump right in and skip the pleasantries....

Last weekend was the Philly Women's Triathlon. I considered doing that one before my training buddies suggested to me last winter that I consider making SheRox my first. The mentoring program was the selling point, but as it turns out, I didn't really use it all that much after a few emails early on.

So I volunteered at the PWT with the Fairmount Running Club to be the rockin'est water stop on the planet! We had a ball and I got to observe some serious stuff. There are some pretty amazing athletes competing, but there are also a LOT of women who don't train at all for a race like this and last Sunday was a bit hot. We saw some pretty whipped women come through the water stop a mile from the finish line.

I realize women choose these races for tons of different reasons, but I personally think nobody has any business (even if you're just doing it for fun) competing in an event that will take her two-plus hours to finish without *any* (or very little) training. A couple of weekends before the PWT I volunteered with the same club for the Philadelphia Insurance Tri's water stop under the Strawberry Mansion Bridge. It was the Olympic distance race, and it was a lot different from an athletic standpoint. I learned a lot at both races.

So, I'll be doing SheRox on Aug. 3rd and since I already did Thundergust, (a small Tri in South Jersey... I blogged about it here) it won't be my first. I've been trying to strengthen my weak points... my swim and my transitions. In the pool, my swim is actually not bad. It's hard to train the mass start and just swimming the whole 800 meters in a crowd, and those are the things that slowed me down at Thundergust. My training group is small, so our "mass starts" are about 5 people in one lane of the pool. It's fun, there's no stress, and I usually pull ahead of all but one of them. This is not what I experienced at Thundergust!! I'm thinking I'm just going to have to get a few more races under my belt to have the experience. I'm not sure if there is any other way to prepare for that.

I compared my Thundergust results to the Philly Women's Tri results and (even though it's probably not wise) I see that if I had done the same times (horrible swim, long transitions, and all) at the PWT, I would have been 4th in my age group. I'm now having fleeting fantasies of placing in SheRox, but only fleeting! It doesn't help that I have friends egging me on. They love to tweak my competitive side.

Training is going well. My husband, Dave, commented on the heat wave that began today, and I said it was a good training opportunity (in all seriousness!) and he said, "That's one way to look at it, I guess!" So I biked to work today (and it was my favorite commute so far, and fastest!) which means I'll be biking home again at 3pm, in the heat of the day. I'm well prepared and looking forward to it.

I got Swim Workouts in a Binder for Triathletes by Bernhardt & Hansen, which a friend recommended. It's waterproof and meant to use on the deck, which I love. My other workouts are getting pretty moldy in their plastic sheets. I look kind of goofy lifting my goggles to my forehead and putting on my glasses to read workouts in the pool, so I tend to use the same ones (memorized) over and over. I've been in a rut. I needed something to kick start my swim, and this book is good. Maybe as a bonus I'll even get stronger.

My run is up to about 14 or 15 miles. Rather, it's up to about 2 hours and 20 minutes. The next thing after SheRox is the Phila Distance Run, so I've been adding to my time on the trail. Someone suggested I try for the marathon this year instead of next, but I think I'll stick to my plan and wait until 2009 for that. The 2:20 run was NOT that great. The one before that, 2hrs & 5 minutes, was very good, but after the 2:20 run I decided I want to back off a bit. I'm at least going to wait until the heat backs off. I hate carrying water on the trail. (And it always runs out anyway before I want it too!) Also, I tend to go too fast on the longer training runs and I wind up tired and/or slightly injured before the end. I've been trying to get some discipline, but so far I'm terrible at it. On the other hand, for short distances, there's no harm in kicking it. My race pace on the shady trail at Thundergust was 7:55, and I'm wondering how I'll do on the asphalt in the full sun at SheRox. We'll see!

I'm going to Run for the Hill of It July 26th. It's a five miler on my "home court," Forbidden Drive from the Northwestern trailhead to Valley Green & back. I've been running that at lunch for almost a year now. It's my favorite training run.

[photo at top: SheROX Philadelphia 2007; at bottom: Forbidden Drive from mike feagans' photostream at Flickr.]